


Nearest Thing to Perfect

by pene



Series: Imperfections [2]
Category: Glee
Genre: Dom/sub, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-22
Updated: 2014-08-22
Packaged: 2018-02-14 05:37:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2179983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pene/pseuds/pene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Again, experimenting and this is not so much a story as just two boys feeling their way through the honeymoon of a relationship. And set in that same d/s alternate universe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nearest Thing to Perfect

**Author's Note:**

> Again, all thanks and blame to Corinna

Make-up removed, street clothes in place, Kurt looks himself over carefully in the low lights of his dressing room. It’s the end of another night’s performance. The show was well-received by the full capacity crowd. It’s always well-received. 

He stretches his spine, arches on the chair then leans forward to lace his leather boots neatly, up and up to the knee.

 

He feels different, since Blaine. Like he was waiting for spring and then summer washed over him. He feels brighter and calmer. But the success on stage came before, it came through hard work and his own talents. And even when Blaine’s three thousand miles away, those things are his and don’t go away.

There’s a faint commotion outside and Kurt sits upright as his producer bursts in, tall and out of sorts. Kurt lets his eyes flicker to him for an instant before dropping his gaze to the floor. However much he’s an actor this is natural to him – the innate desire to look down when a dom addresses him.

“Michael,” Kurt says calmly. He keeps his hands in his lap. “How can I help you?”

Michael seems off balance in the face of Kurt’s stillness. “I- Kurt I can’t have you pulling out of the show. You’re the sub lead. You’re aware the role is critical and look, I’ve admitted you’re a tremendous draw for dom audiences. And you’re the only believable double of the new guy playing Cynisca. Your leaving is out of the question. It’s not acceptable. I can’t have it.” He’s clearly building himself up to make some sort of demand.

Kurt takes a breath in the space between sentences. Michael hears, of course. He’s worked up now but he’s a skilled dom and well attuned to even infinitesimal sub movements. Especially in Kurt. “May I speak, please?” Kurt asks.

“Yes.” Kurt holds still. “You can look at me, Kurt.” Michael’s voice is in balance now, clearly appeased by Kurt’s unpressured deference. 

“I don’t know where you heard that I was pulling out. I did place a request that Gillian take my role for a Sunday show and a Tuesday show. And Elliot’s asked that those same days Elliot’s Cynisca will be played by Julia.”

“But why-“

Kurt keeps his voice quiet so he can’t be thought to be interrupting. “Elliot needs time alone with his dom. And I’d like a few days. My dom is coming home.”

There’s a pause. It’s a tiny thrill to Kurt that he never has to even mention Blaine’s name. Everybody knows exactly who Kurt’s dom is.

“Right. Yep. Make sure you’re back for Wednesday evening,” says Michael. “You and Elliot both. There’s a synergy between you. And say hello to Blaine for me.” Everybody knows who Blaine is, and they’re all at least a little bit starstruck. 

“Absolutely. Thank you, Michael,” says Kurt.

After Michael closes the door he returns to lacing his boots. It’s been four months since Kurt first knelt for Blaine. They met in this dressing room. It was an instant and undeniable connection in the face of which Kurt had been unable to do anything but submit. And then they spent three delicious months together, a long summer broken only by Kurt’s performance schedule and Blaine’s morning talk show appearances and a couple of spontaneous secret gigs. They spent much of those three months exploring one another’s limits, learning their responses and needs and pains and ecstasies. Then Blaine made the call that a trip back to the West Coast was necessary to pull together some recordings and meet with studio executives. 

The three weeks apart have been agony. Manageable, of course, but agony. Kurt’s had Blaine on his mind constantly. His nerves have been taut; he’s felt the strain and stretch of waiting, of self-restraint, of denying freedom to the most deeply submissive parts of himself. Now it’s mere days to go.

He stands, runs his palms over his shirt and tucks it precisely into his belt. At this stage Kurt’s body responds to just the thought of Blaine’s return. Even his own hands at his waist make his breath flutter. His knees ache and his heart quickens. He tamps down on it. Mere days to go but he is going to hold it together to the last.

He takes a steadying breath and heads out and for home.

**

He’s doing his morning yoga, still damp from his shower and smelling like Hermes shower gel, when a package arrives at their Manhattan loft. It’s from Blaine. Kurt signs for it with shaking fingers.

There’s an envelope. The note inside reads, “Wait.” So Kurt does, sitting in the sunlight at their dining table. He rests his hand on the weathered oak and watches the package but lets his mind wander freely. When his phone buzzes it feels like electricity under his skin.

“Blaine,” he answers breathlessly. He moves the phone so his face is at its most elegant angle. Blaine smiles brightly through the screen, his eyes fire warm. It’s still a shock to see those famous dark-lashed eyes focused all on Kurt. Blaine’s wearing a yellow shirt that strains around his shoulders and a plaid bow-tie. He looks adorable and assured. Kurt wriggles a little in his chair.

“As beautiful as ever. Did you get the package?” Blaine asks sweetly.

“Yes,” Kurt says. Blaine is still. Even from this distance Kurt can tell that he expects more. “Yes. Sir.” Just saying the words settles him in his skin and he sighs quietly.

Blaine hums his approval across the line. “Have you opened it?”

“Of course I haven’t,” Kurt says. He’s slightly dismayed at the suggestion.

Blaine grins at him. “You’re my good boy.”

Kurt can’t help but smile back. “Always,” he says. He’s emboldened by being Blaine’s, by Blaine’s praise. “Just two days until you’re here with me.”

Blaine’s eyes darken. His voice drops. “Remember it, sweetheart. God. I have so many plans for you.” The words are charged with their full intent.

Kurt breathes out an “oh.”

“And those plans start with the package,” says Blaine. Kurt shifts in his chair a little and Blaine’s laugh is fond and certain. “Where is it?”

Kurt angles the phone to show Blaine where the package lies, unobtrusive in the middle of the table.

“So?” prompts Blaine.

Kurt reaches to open it. Inside the plain brown paper is something deep turquoise and lacy. Underwear. Kurt takes them out delicately. It’s just a scrap of material. It might just cover his cock when he’s soft, there’s no chance the way he’s felt the last few days, achingly half-hard with self-denial.

“You’re pointing me at the ceiling, baby,” says Blaine.

“Sorry,” gasps Kurt and turns Blaine back around to his face.

“Do you like them?” asks Blaine.

“I- I think so?” Kurt will never lie to Blaine, and he’s not sure what he feels. 

“Take a look. There’s more,” says Blaine.

Kurt reaches into the paper and takes out a large turquoise plug. “They match,” he says.

“Of course. I couldn’t let my sub’s ass be anything less than tasteful and co-ordinated,” says Blaine.

Kurt lets out a half giggle.

Blaine goes on, his voice assured. “I want you wearing these when I come home.”

“Oh,” says Kurt helplessly. They haven’t played with toys much. In the three months they spent with one another they kept things simple, stimulating one another with their complementary natures, with their hands and their mouths and breaths. Of course some dizzying nights Blaine had bound Kurt to the bed and traced his body, stimulating him and withdrawing over and over until Kurt quivered at the slightest breath. Drawn out like that, the orgasms crashed over Kurt like a mighty flood.

But that’s bondage, he knows how he feels about that. He’s less sure here. Over the phone Blaine’s expression wavers. He’s famed for his charm and his gentle implacable dominance. Only Kurt sees his doubt. Kurt looks at the plug and lets the confidence that was infused within his dom’s voice make him certain. This is what his dom wants, so it’s what Kurt needs. Sometimes he can let those things just fit together. Even without Blaine in the room. 

He takes the butt plug between his fingers and tilts his head as he looks at Blaine on the phone.

“May I make a suggestion?” he asks politely.

“You may,” says Blaine. His voice is mild but his eyes say how much he longs to fuck Kurt for all the ways they strengthen one another and all the ways they are different.

Kurt takes a deep breath. His brain is bright with Blaine around, but even just over the phone, his body is surrendering to his core. “If you approved, sir, I think I could wear this for longer.”

Blaine breathes steadily, “You want that inside you, do you baby?”

Kurt nods, his lips parted around a “yes” he doesn’t say.

Blaine asks, “How long do you think you could stand it?”

Kurt thinks of the butt plug stuffed within him, keeping him ready and waiting for Blaine to come home and fill him all the way. He thinks of walking through the theater knowing that Blaine has him half opened up, performing on stage with all those desirous dom eyes on him, knowing that he is Blaine’s to push to the limits, Blaine’s to take.

“I want to wear it every minute until you get here,” he says and Blaine doesn’t even try to hide his groan. After a moment with his eyes fixed on Kurt, Blaine says, “I approve. You’ll- I’m telling you to take it out for your needs-” Kurt nods his understanding. “But yes. I approve.”

“May I- Blaine.” Kurt takes a breath. “Sir, may I put it in now?” He is trembling with all the ways he wants to please Blaine.

“Yes, Kurt. You may.” And Blaine is Kurt’s as much as Kurt is Blaine’s, so he already knows that Kurt’s whole self is begging for direction. “Leave the phone. Go and get the lube from beside the bed. And then come back and take off those irresistibly tight yoga pants for me.”

Kurt leans the phone against a fruit bowl so Blaine has a view of the loft. He returns with the lube then steps back so Blaine can watch as he shimmies out of his pants. He’s glad he’s already done yoga this morning, so he’s flexible and his muscles are warmed up. Half naked, he lifts his leg and places a bare foot on the table, giving Blaine a full view of his ass.

Blaine’s voice has gone soft with want. “Okay, gorgeous. Lube.”

Kurt squeezes some lube onto the plug and coats the tip, running his fingers around its smooth profile. He wants to know this thing before he opens himself around it. 

“And then just press it inside you. Slowly, baby. RIght inside.”

It’s exquisite torture, fitting a butt plug while he’s already so turned on his skin is hissing with it. But pushing something inside is all about letting his body relax. 

Kurt lets his lips part as he breathes out and presses the plug against his hole, then he breathes again. The lube is cool against his heated rim. The plug is bigger than he’d realized. He looks at the ceiling and focuses, balanced on one foot. His rim pulls a little, stings as it stretches. He exhales with it, enjoying the heady fullness of something pushing and pushing into him. He shifts the angle a little, testing as he bears down.

“That’s right,” breathes Blaine on the phone. “You’re so gorgeous like this. Wanting me.”

Kurt twists the plug a little, pressing more firmly. He can see Blaine, if he looks, but he focuses on his own body, on letting it relax, letting it open up. He presses harder and sobs faintly. It aches. It aches and it feels incredible. When the plug slides in he grunts with the fullness and then groans as it shifts up inside, its base pressing against his rim.

“Sorry,” he says.

“Don’t apologize. I didn’t tell you to be silent,” says Blaine. “You know I love the sounds you make.”

Kurt lets his fingers trace the edge of his rim, feel the plug there in the center of him. Moves it so everything feels like it shifts inside. He hears Blaine moan as he does. 

The need to focus seems to have taken away the urgency in Kurt’s cock and skin and throat. He lifts his leg from the table. Standing upright the plug feels even bigger and so firm inside him. He stretches up, arches his back, luxuriating in it. 

“You can get dressed now,” says Blaine. His voice is rough.

Kurt takes the phone in his hand and looks at Blaine. He still feels all the strain of waiting for Blaine but it’s blanketed with a softness and a fullness. 

“Thank you,” he says.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I have ever seen,” says Blaine. “I wish I was there to touch you.”

Kurt lifts the turquoise lingerie from the table. “I’ll save these for when you are,” he says.

“Good boy,” says Blaine. 

**

The day of Blaine’s return, Kurt has a glass of sparkling water, some grapes, some almonds all on the table, ready. He’s fully dressed - simple heather grey henley, soft pants, hooded waistcoat laced up his back. Underneath, the lingerie is a bright splash of color. It cups his ass and edges between his cheeks. His shaft presses against the sheer material, the tip of his cock just peers out the top. Kurt loves the tension between the lace and his soft clothing.

The plug has been a steady presence for two days, recalling all the ways Kurt is already owned. Every time Kurt moves it is there, filling and reminding him. So he’s not nervous about Blaine’s homecoming, just stilled by a deep longing. Nonetheless he’s checked, twice, that the flight arrived on time. Blaine will be here any minute.

He hears a car outside, the downstairs door bang open. He considers kneeling now, resting his hands in his lap. He is weakened by longing for it. But he wants any action to be compelled by Blaine’s presence. 

When the door opens Kurt drops to the floor. He intended to hold it together, he wants to be perfect and silent, but he sobs a welcome without even thinking. In an instant Blaine is there, standing above Kurt and looking for just a moment before sinking into him and wrapping him in his strong arms. 

“My beautiful boy,” he says, “My beautiful, beautiful boy.” 

Kurt sobs again and shakes against Blaine.

Ten minutes later Kurt is bound to the bed, naked save the tiny scrap of lace, plug still in and his arms stretched above his head. Blaine vanishes into the bathroom and Kurt hears him showering, washing off the journey. It’s a new kind of torture, having Blaine so close and yet not touching him. Kurt welcomes it.

When Blaine steps out of the bathroom Kurt follows him with his eyes. Blaine has a towel wrapped around his waist. He looks faintly wet, tan and compact and utterly stunning.

“I have another gift for you,” says Blaine. His brow is furrowed. “Do you trust me, Kurt?”

Kurt lets his eyes answer for him. 

“Okay,” says Blaine. He reaches into a bag and pulls out a tiny controller. “Hold still, honey, I want to see this.”

He presses the switch and the plug vibrates deep inside Kurt, pressed against the walls of him, and right on his prostrate. Kurt almost whites out. He cries out. It’s wordless and dazzling. He arches his back, pulling against the ties binding his wrists. 

Blaine switches it off. 

“Too much?” he asks, his voice concerned. Half of everything Kurt wants is to take that worry away, let Blaine be all the things he already is. Everything else Kurt wants is to feel that again.

“No,” he gasps. “Not too much.”

Blaine presses the control again and Kurt cries out loud. His cock juts out above the lace of the lingerie. He thrusts his hips futilely in the air and tries to fuck himself back onto the plug. It’s too much and too little.

“Please Blaine,” he says though he has no idea what he’s begging for. There are tears on his face. He looks over at Blaine who has dropped his towel and is watching openly, fisting his own cock. 

“You have no idea,” says Blaine, “what it did to me to know I had that remote all the time. At any moment I could switch it on and you’d feel me right there inside you. I could have had you falling apart on the subway or babbling and senseless on stage.” 

Kurt shudders, throwing his head back and arching again as the plug vibrates on and on. Part of the pleasure is knowing how helpless he is, how little control he has, and part of it is knowing that he is safe because this is Blaine, who values him, who values the whole of him, and would never do anything to hurt him. 

Blaine switches the vibrator off. He watches Kurt’s face as he moves up Kurt’s body. He smoothes away Kurt’s tears. 

Kurt’s lived up to his own idea of the perfect sub, quiet and compliant and holding everything together. He didn’t suspect that falling helplessly apart in someone’s loving and capable hands was part and parcel of the role and the joy. 

Blaine leans to kiss him for the first time since his return. Kurt welcomes the kiss, feels almost like he was drowning without it. Blaine stretches his body alongside him, mouths against his neck. And all of the dazzling pleasure of the vibrator is nothing compared to the joy of a warm body against his, of humid breath against his skin and teeth pressed into his neck. 

“You want more, sweetheart?” says Blaine into his shoulder.

Kurt nods. Of course he wants more, he wants everything.

“Everything,” Blaine echoes Kurt’s thoughts. He draws back and looks down at Kurt for a charged, impossibly long moment. Then he lifts Kurt’s leg to open him up and gently removes the plug. Kurt groans, unstoppably long and low, as the plug comes out. It’s release and loss. Blaine lifts Kurt’s leg onto his shoulder, bends his body so his ass is curled upwards, and pulls the turquoise lace to one side. Kurt stares up at him, frozen and compliant with desire. 

Kurt’s had a plug in his ass for two days. Blaine’s cock slides in sweetly and easily. But Blaine’s cock is longer than the plug and the pressure deep inside is a new universe of feeling. Kurt is wrung out with desire. Blaine thrusts deeper and closer. And the view of Blaine’s face above him, focused and contorted at the edge of ecstasy, blurs into whiteness as Blaine shudders inside and Kurt comes.


End file.
